Chapter 24 #2
Even without knowing Crosby, I’m sure he feels the same way.
His fingers continue to trace circles and the rest of my body feels numb compared to where he’s connected to me.
"I’m getting left behind." He says quietly.
"By who?"
"Everyone." He scoffs. "First Young Gun, but like that wasn’t a big deal because he was new to the team anyway so we sort of got used to him and Harper as a unit before the end of his first season. Then Boba Tea went off and rekindled things with Jo. And, that was fine, I mean he was super annoying about it, but they’re in a long distance relationship while she plays in Salt Lake City so he’s still available to hang out.
But Crocs hooking up was not on my radar.
He hasn’t really been interested in a bunch of random hookups but he’d come with me to the clubs at least. And he’d be game to hang out whenever.
But then he got his dog last year and moved to a house last summer and I’m killing myself taking Ubers to his place all the time to see him. "
Throughout his speech Duncan’s hand stopped its circling and his breathing picked up.
"Well, it isn’t a solution to your problem exactly but soon you’ll have a new friend in D.C. to see." I give him a gentle pinch and he rolls to his back and looks up at me.
Beneath my hand, his heart pounds and he breaks eye contact to look down and pull my hand in front of his face. "Why WILD HOPE?"
"It was my mom’s idea."
"She told you how to position them." He remembers? "But did she give you the word?" He chuckles as he looks more closely at W-I-L-D as his thumb brushes against the letters.
"Yeah, I was her wild one. My BSL nickname is Red." I make the sign as I say the word. "But she also called me wild."
"Says the guy who rinses out a beer spill immediately. So wild." Duncan’s twinkling eyes betray his flat tone.
"Shut up. I was a wilder child."
"How so?"
"Well, I played music really loudly because my parents couldn’t hear it to tell me to turn it down."
"That’s a bonus." He chuckles. "What else?"
"I’d rollerskate through the house."
His thumb stops its back-and-forth strumming of my knuckles and his jaw clicks. "What?"
I breathe through the urge to giggle. "Yep, it’s pretty dreary in Scotland most of the year so I would roller skate through the whole main floor."
"Unbelievable." He grumbles.
"How’s your skating going after trying to roller skate?" I bite my lip to keep my smile in check.
"It’s just fine, thank you." He lifts his hand to make the fuck you sign in BSL thinking he’s saying thank you. His sarcastic tone actually lands the fuck you message better.
I laugh as he shakes his head.
"Can I ask you something?" Duncan says quietly as he continues to study my hand.
"You just did."
"Such a joker." He rolls his eyes. "But seriously, how…umm…how are your parents able to support your music?"
"Oh," not the question I was expecting. "We have our ways."
"How so?"
"My mom streams my shows when she can and I think she just loves the fact I’m on stage. My dad is a quieter, I guess more even keeled guy but he watches too."
"But like, you don’t call them on the phone do you?"
I shrug. "Facetimes every once in a while but no, usually we text."
"That makes sense."
"It works for us. But," I let out an exhale, debating if I continue admitting too much to Duncan. "Nevermind."
"No, what is it?"
"Just, sometimes, I feel like a bad son for excelling at something they can’t partake in."
Duncan keeps his focus on my hands but I look up across the room afraid to see any change in expression on his face.
"Too bad you can’t bash an opponent's face in when you’re feeling bad about yourself." Duncan says after a few beats. "That’s what I do and it works every time. Have you tried it?"
"What? Punching someone?"
"Yeah, but like in the middle of a game when your adrenaline is already running on full blast and you could be pissed about something else completely but that guy's face just looks punchable so you drop the gloves."
"No, I have not been in that situation."
"Shame. You should."
"I’ll keep that in mind." A smile lifts my lips and he flashes a quick glance up at me. "What about your parents, do they come to a lot of games?"
"A few a year. My parents are semi-retired now and spend half the winter in Arizona."
"Not exactly a hockey town."
"Not quite." He smiles. "My dad got into the sport as I got into it. He never played but he also never complained about going out to the driveway to mess around with me while mom made dinner."
I think back to his family’s boisterous interactions in Granny’s little cottage. "Did you visit Scotland a lot?"
"Once a summer. Granny came over to Boston for one Christmas and complained the entire time about it being too cold." He laughs. "Like it wasn’t any warmer in Marreldir but she was convinced."
"What about Delilah, are you close?"
"Yeah, pretty close. She likes to complain about having to follow me around as a kid even though she was older but she was in marching band and the travel schedule wasn’t as rigorous."
"What did she play?"
"Tuba."
"No way." I laugh, picturing the petite woman as a teen lugging a gigantic brass instrument around.
Duncan reaches into his pocket. "Way. It’s ridiculous."
He swipes around and produces a photo of Delilah in full marching band regalia, her plumed hat propped on her head as she hugs her tuba. I can’t help it, I chuckle.
"High school rough for her?" I assume.
"Yeah, but having the hockey star younger brother helped her street cred."
"I bet."
When I hand his phone back he shares the photo to a WhatsApp group chat and then sticks his phone back in his pocket.
"What did your parents do for work?"
"Dad was an engineer. He designed stadium escalators, you know the ones that change direction."
"Interesting." I never thought about someone having to engineer those things.
"Not really, but it kept him busy, and we’d get random tickets to events as a benefit." He shrugs. "My mom was a special education teacher."
"What are they doing now, if they’re only semi-retired?"
"My dad jokes he’s my mom’s business manager. But she whipped up this online community for teachers, helping them with like monthly trainings and stuff."
"Cool."
"I guess. And Delilah is in the marketing department of a medical devices company outside of Boston. Whatever the fuck that means."
I laugh. "Yeah, it sounds like such a normal job but I have no idea what it would be like."
"All I know are hand jobs and blow jobs."
I snort a laugh. "Seriously?"
He tilts his face up to mine. "You heard my dad’s mother fucker joke…yes I’m serious."
"I suppose I did. He whipped that one out less than an hour after I met him."
"I know. I’ve learned all my joke telling skills from him."
We settle into thought for a minute. The memory of hanging out with The Paisleys is vivid in my mind. And I want more of it. I want Duncan to get to know my family too.
I’ll have to teach him the right sign for thank you.
Or maybe not.
Duncan breaks my train of thought. "So since I’m too sore to Hulu and Do You, are we just watching something together?"
"Hulu and Do You?"
"HBO Max and Climax?" He offers and I burst out laughing.
"Really?"
" Prime and Naughty Time?"
"Stop it."
"Fine, just put something on TV so we don’t keep baring our souls to each other."
"Fine."
After I scroll too slowly through the streaming options Duncan sits up, with great effort and theatrics, to take over.
He finally starts a Titanium Person World Championship documentary.
He lays back down on my leg and we keep touching each other at small points as he provides amateur commentary throughout the entire episode.